Z Branded ONESHOT
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: Four days before their wedding, Penelope gives Derek a surprise wedding gift.


_Author's Note: Another ONESHOT! It invaded my mind and wouldn't leave until I put on paper! (Or screen, as the case may be.) Enjoy!_

"_Stop_ reaching for those," Penelope said with a laugh as she pushed Derek's hand away from her chest. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"Yes, well I can think of something better for you to concentrate on," he said with a grin.

She ran the razor over his head. "Yes, but our wedding is in ten days, and you know I like your head shaved and then grown out a little."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her in front of him, then pulled on the backs of her knees so she fell into his lap straddling him. "You know what _I_ like shaved?" he asked, running his hands up her outer thighs and underneath her skirt.

Once again, she pushed her fiancés hands away and stood up. "We're having dinner with JJ and Will in half an hour," she reminded him. "It's almost time to go."

"I only need two minutes," he said, trying to entice her.

But she rolled her eyes. "_That's_ nice," she said. "And when you put it that way, not at _all_ tempting. Now go get ready for dinner!"

He slapped her on the ass and she yelped as she spun around.

"Hey, it's not too late for me to back out of this," she teased.

"Like I wouldn't chase you to the ends of the Earth," he said, still romancing her after all the time they'd been together.

She grinned. "Makes me want to run just to find out."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her against his chest. "Don't you _dare,_" he warned.

___

_Ok, so maybe this wasn't such a good idea_, Penelope thought six days later. Derek and the rest of the team had been called to California four days ago. They'd thought it was going to be quick, but they'd been wrong.

The man ran his hand along her inner thigh. "I don't think this is a good idea," she said nervously.

"Too late to back out now, Darlin'," he said. "We've already started."

"But I—" Penelope inhaled sharply as he began again, then groaned. _This really shouldn't be so painful, _she thought, as she felt a tear run down each cheek.

___

"What's goin' on?" Derek asked the next night as he crawled into bed beside to her.

"Nothing," she said, turning away from him.

He could swear he'd heard her wince.

"Penelope—"

"Good night, Derek," she said sternly.

He sat up and grabbed her shoulder, pushing it down into the mattress. She had no choice but to look up at him. "You've barely said a word to me since I got home," he told her.

"Let it go, Derek," she said, pulling away from him. She turned back up onto her side.

"Do you have cold feet?" he asked tenderly.

She rolled back over. "No!" she said, looking up at him. "I'm sorry," she told him.

"Baby, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I just…I don't feel good," she said unconvincingly. She leaned up and gave him a soft kiss. "Good night."

She lay back down and Derek sat there for a minute looking at her before finally reaching over and turning the lamp off. He lay down beside her and tried to sleep.

___

Derek rolled over and looked at the clock, and then sighed. Three a.m. Something was wrong with his fiancé. This was unlike her—and now it was making _him _nervous. He hadn't had gotten one wink of sleep—and with the way she'd been tossing and turning, he'd bet she hadn't either. Derek threw the covers back and stood up, then grabbed his empty water glass.

He made his way to the kitchen, and then filled his glass with ice water. He'd had enough of this. He made his way back upstairs and flicked the bedroom light on.

"Derek!" Penelope said angrily as she sat up. "Turn the light back off."

"No," he said. "I'm not gonna turn the damn light off! Not until you tell me what the _hell_ is wrong with you."

Penelope sighed as she kicked the covers off. She reached for the hem of her knee length nightgown and began to pull it up.

"If you think you're going to distract me with sex—"

Penelope scoffed. "Trust me. _That _didn't even cross my mind."

She finished pulling her nightgown up, and then bent her knee and moved her leg away from her body.

"What the hell is _that_?" Derek asked, squinting his eyes. He moved towards her, placed his glass on the nightstand, and leaned down for a closer look.

"It's a tattoo," she said in a small voice.

"Of _what?_" Derek asked, reaching down and moving his fingers lightly over her pinkened flesh.

_"_Owww," she said miserably.

Derek's eyes widened. "You _branded_ yourself?" he asked in disbelief.

She nodded, choking on a sob.

He grinned. "I can't believe you had my name tattooed on your inner thigh."

"Yes, well…neither can I. My stupid thighs have been rubbing together, and now…" She swept a hand near her inner thigh. "_This_ happened." She winced as his hands moved over her skin again. "It was supposed to be your wedding present," she explained.

"Well trust me, I like it," he said huskily.

She watched as his eyes darkened with passion.

"We can't," she said quickly.

"Oh, we can," he said in dispute.

She shook her head fiercely.

"Penelope," he said softly. "Trust me."

She sighed, and then nodded. She'd never been able to resist the man before her. And she wasn't stupid enough to think she could start now.

"Lift your hips," he said.

She braced her feet on the mattress, and then did as he commanded. Derek reached for her panties and pulled them down over her thighs, careful to keep the fabric away from her tender flesh.

She sat up and pulled her nightgown over her head, and he grinned at her.

She lay back on the mattress, and he placed a knee on the bed, moving himself so he was kneeling between her legs.

Penelope swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat, closing her eyes and bracing for the pain that was sure to come from the friction of his skin against hers. But it never came. She opened her eyes as Derek leaned over her and reached for the nightstand. Penelope wasn't sure what he'd grabbed until she felt droplets of cold water on her skin as he pulled his hand back. He moved his hand to where she'd put his name and when the ice cubes hit her flesh, her hips came up off the bed. "Derek!" she shrieked.

"Ssshh," he said, moving the ice tenderly over her skin.

"_What_ are you doing?" she asked shrilly.

He lifted his eyebrows, a smirk on his face. "Making you all better," he told her, his voice husky.

She inhaled sharply, forcing her body to relax down onto the bed. She felt her body begin to quiver while he moved the ice over her skin. But not from the cold—she _liked_ this.

"Derek…" she said breathlessly.

"Yeah, princess?" he asked.

"Don't…stop…doing that," she insisted, clutching the sheets.

He grinned down at her, and when he was convinced that her scarred skin had cooled, he took one of the ice cubes in his other hand and moved them up over the curve of her hips, up her belly, then over her nipples. He used the palms of his hands, moving them in circles, the ice cubes melting as little beads of water slid down the sides of her breasts. He leaned down and captured one of the beads with his tongue. He moved his mouth upwards until he came to her nipple.

Her back arched when she felt the heat from his mouth, and she grabbed his head. "Oh, Derek," she said breathlessly. "If you promise to never stop doing that, I'll get Morgan tattooed on my other thigh."

Derek growled at the thought, pulling his mouth away just enough so he could speak. "Sweet Lord, I think I just got harder," he teased before returning to his task.

She giggled at his comment, but it quickly turned into a groan when he moved to her other breast. "Has it ever been this good?" she asked.

He grinned. She asked the question each time they made love, and he gave her the same answer he always gave her. "Only every single time."

He somehow managed to get his boxers off, then positioned himself between her thighs.

"You ready?" he asked.

She reached for his shoulders in answer, giving them a gentle squeeze. She lifted her hips as he pushed inside of her, the pain from the day before all but forgotten. "Faster, Derek," she instructed, and he quickened his pace, moving in and out of her with amazing speed. God, the man was marvelous in every possible way. She met him thrust for thrust, and it wasn't long before she felt every muscle in her body tighten. She ran her hands down his back, then up again, feeling his muscles go taut beneath her touch.

She tightened her arms around him, her upper body clinging to his as their lower bodies moved together. She moaned in pleasure from his final thrust, then fell back against the mattress, his body covering hers.

"Every damn time," he said through his heavy breathing. He lifted himself enough to place a soft kiss on her forehead, then let his body sink against hers again. "I can't wait to make you officially mine," he told her.

"Oh, Derek," she said with a satisfied sigh. "I already am."

"And according to that body part you have wrapped around me, you always will be," he said, his eyes dancing.

She tightened her thighs against his waist. "You better believe it," she said fervently.

*** THE END ***


End file.
